“He looks a lot like me,” Fielding said, his jaw tensing. “Only he’s older, and he has silver hair.” Fielding took a moment to peer over the wall. “I suspect he’s already inside.”
“It’s obviously important that we save Her Majesty’s crowns and whatnot,” Esme said, “but we also need to get that box back from the Raven. You can see the mischief the box has caused already. It must be retrieved and dealt with.”
“And we need Thatcher’s hand,” Fielding said.
“His hand?” Nick asked.
Fielding shook his head. “It’s a long story. Suffice it to say, we need the box and all four bands. Someone will have to watch Waters here to make certain he behaves.”
“I’ll do it,” Graeme said. He wrapped his large hand around Waters’s throat and pinned him against the stone wall. Two open wounds appeared along Graeme’s forearm, but he ignored them.
“Are you certain?” Fielding asked, noting the sores on Graeme’s arm.
“Had worse. You and your lass go and get that box.”
“We’ll occupy the guards after you get inside,” Max suggested.
Fielding peered over the wall again. From this angle he could see four beefeaters pacing slowly outside the Jewel House. He looked at the courtyard surrounding the wardens, trying to find some way around them. He wished he’d paid more attention to the rumors at school of hidden tunnels in and out of the Tower.
“How are we to get past the guards?” Esme asked.
Fielding looked back at the beefeaters and recognized one of them as another of the Raven’s men.
He crouched back down. “I have an idea.” He reached over and grabbed the hem of Esme’s dress and ripped.
“What has gotten into you?” she asked, frowning. She tried to stop him from continuing, but he shoved her hands aside.
“Trust me.” He cupped her cheek.
She allowed him to continue until he’d torn away the hem so that her dress hit her right at mid-calf.
Then he grabbed her bodice and pulled it down low. Nick whistled.
Fielding narrowed his eyes at the man. “Keep your eyes to yourself.” Then he said to Esme, “I need for you to walk to those men and flirt with them.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“This will work, Esme. You distract them, and the three of us can sneak behind them.”
She glanced at the men around them, her features tightening. “I don’t know how to flirt,” she hissed.
“Esme, love, of course you do.” He nodded toward the bracelet. “At least one of the beefeaters over there works for the Raven. I don’t know about the others. While you distract them, we should be able to manage the rest.”
Her insecurity about her flirtation skills was charming, but they didn’t have much time to dawdle. He gave her a pointed look, and she marched off in the direction of the guards.
Then he motioned to the other men to follow him as he ran the length of the wall to their right. They would have to climb over and wait for her distraction to move behind the counterfeit guards.
Fielding could hear Esme’s voice as he maneuvered himself into position. Retrieving the pistol from his waistband, he inched closer.
“Well, hello,” Esme said as she rounded the corner to face the beefeaters. “It’s a lovely evening.” Her hand trailed down her neck to her cleavage. “Although I’m afraid I’m a little chilled and I left my cloak at home.”
“Come a little closer,” one of the guards told Esme. “We’ll warm you up.”
“Why don’t you come and get me,” she suggested. Fielding smiled.
One man took her bait and stepped forward, which enabled Fielding and the others to jump over the wall and take down the guards. One guard, the man Fielding had recognized, turned around. He took one look at Fielding and went for a whistle he had hanging around his neck.
But Fielding leveled the gun at him and dropped the bullet into the chamber. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”